


I always wanted to die clean and pretty

by Thats_Gay_5119



Series: Last words of a shooting star [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Cancer, Gen, Hinata Shouyou is Sunshine, How Do I Tag, Hurt Hinata Shouyou, I Made Myself Cry, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Lung Cancer, My First Fanfic, POV Hinata Shouyou, Sad Hinata Shouyou
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:41:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27692933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thats_Gay_5119/pseuds/Thats_Gay_5119
Summary: Hinata has lung cancer, and he knows he doesn't have much time left.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou & Karasuno Volleyball Club, Hinata Shouyou/Hinata Shouyou's Family, Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Hinata Shouyou/Kozume Kenma
Series: Last words of a shooting star [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2025203
Comments: 6
Kudos: 118





	I always wanted to die clean and pretty

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from "Last words of a shooting star" by mitski. My first work, so sorry for the bad writing

There are many luxuries that Hinata Shouyou did not have. 

For example, time. 

Breathing easily was another one. He often found himself hunched over heaving and panting after racing Kageyama. Occasionally, he would find himself coughing up blood after an especially intense game or practice. Shouyou was usually able to brush it off; and when he wasn’t it was easy to escape to the bathroom.

Not many people were aware of his condition, not even his team or coach. His mother knew. She had been there when he had gotten the bleak prognosis. The two decided it was best if Natsu stayed in the dark; at least for now. Kozume Kenma was his only friend who knew. Shouyou had called him sobbing the night after the doctor had told him he had three or four months at most. The two had stayed on call for hours. Talking about everything from their next practice game to stray cats they had seen in recent months. The two never really mentioned it again, but whenever they saw each other the Kenma would make sure to hold Shoyou just a little bit longer than before.

He can’t do things as well as he could before. His hands shake, and his writing is messier than it used to be. He doesn’t jump as well as he could before. Either his teammates don’t notice, or they don’t comment. Shouyou sincerely hopes it’s the former.

He really shouldn’t, but he still plays his sport. He knows he shouldn’t, but he still runs and hangs out with friends. Shouyou would rather have a joyful one or two months than a miserable four.

Shouyou is acutely aware he is dying, that his body, his being, is slowly drifting away in the sands of time. He knows that the clock is ticking, and all too fast for his liking. He always dreamed of being able to play volleyball until he had to retire. Now, he dreams of living to see tomorrow.

His decline is slow at first, then faster. Shouyou knows that the people around him are concerned. He also knows that he could never bring himself to tell them the truth. He knows his body just isn’t the same anymore. He’s lost weight as his body loses it’s grip on living.

Despite the fact he can barely hold a pen, he writes. Writes to his family, his friends, his teammates. He writes to convey how sorry he is he cannot stay. To tell them how much he hopeless they carry on.

To Kageyama, Shouyou writes about how he enjoyed staying after practice, how much he enjoyed his time and patience. To Kenma, Shouyou writes how much he appreciated how the setter stayed talking to him, making the shorter boy feel like he had all the time in the world instead of the limited amount he actually possessed. To Suga and Daichi and Asahi, Shouyou writes how much he loved being on the team and learning from them. To Tanaka and Nishinoya, Shouyou writes about how much he’s thankful to them for messing around and pretending nothing was wrong even at some of the team’s lowest points. To his coach, Shouyou writes about how sorry he is that he can’t be there for the team’s next game. He writes and writes and writes, each letter’s handwriting getting shakier and shakier.

He hopes the letters will never have to be delivered, but he knows that he doesn’t have the luxury of time.


End file.
